Ate jokes
What did Osama give the Windows on the World restaurant in the WTC as a rating when he ate it? A 9/11!
Jack opened his drying eyes, awoken by a piercing ray of sunlight shining through crooked blinds. A gentle smell wafted in from the corner of what his temporarily blinded eyes knew to be a dilapidated kitchen. It was the one good thing about his life, that smell. He closed his eyes once more and awaited his call.
“Jacky, breakfast time!” beckoned that oh-so-familiar girlish voice. “Oh, silly me, the handcuffs!”
The same footsteps he always heard, the only ones, tapped along the tile floor as each one of Jack’s limbs were freed from the cold metal that imprisoned them. He’d learned not to resist it, and the acceptance was blissful.
Jack slowly dragged himself to the kitchen table, still adjusting his eyes to the light. Moments later, a bowl was slid over to him by a hand he’d become all too familiar with. Oatmeal with little bits of dried apple mixed in. Even after four years, he still liked it.
“Thank you, Randy,” Jack muttered.
“Jill,” said the girl’s voice across from him. The girl’s voice vanished.
“You call me Randy when I’m having my way with you, boy. Understood?” said the balding, sweat-stained man from whom Jill’s voice came.
“Yes, sir.”
“Now hurry up and eat your food. I want to have some more fun before you expire.”
Jack ate obediently, but deep down he grew concerned. Expired? What could Randy mean by...expired?
He thought back to the day everything went wrong. The day he was deceived. His 14th birthday.
Four years...already? Was Jack really about to be an adult? Then expired means...
Jack stood up quickly, hitting his knees on the table with a thud.
“I need to go to the bathroom.”
“Which one?”
“The one you don’t like to watch,” Jack replied. Randy waved him away dismissively.
Jack paced around the small shack searching for the bathroom door. He passed the heavily locked front door, each lock a memento of his past escape attempts. Finally, he entered the bathroom. No lock, he had to be fast.
Jack searched desperately around the room for anything he could use. If this was his last round before Randy was through with him, it might be his only chance to escape. He opened drawers, scrounged through cupboards, scoured every inch of the floor, but found a small mirror.
“Almost done, Jacky?” called the voice of Jill. “Don’t keep daddy waiting.” grumbled Randy.
Startled, Jack lost his grip on the mirror. Jack froze the second it fell to the floor and shattered.
“Shit...shit!” he whispered sharply, trying to brush the mess away. In doing so, he found a shard large enough to be held. “This’ll have to do...”
Jack slid the shard in his pocket and returned to the living room he had woken up in. The same old deflated mattress was still there, iron bars and all. Randy lay sprawled across it, a pink lace bra covering his hairy chest, matching panties withholding his dense, greasy bush. His waist had grown so fat they hardly fit, until...
SNAP!
The panties seemed to vanish as the waistband broke, springing his embarrassing, already erect penis from side to side.
“Oopsies,” he cooed.
Jack took off his clothes, as was the ritual, and laid them at the foot of the mattress. His sore knees pressed into the stained fabric while he inched closer to Randy’s pulsating cock. Licking his lips, Jack bent down and took the member into his mouth. Randy groaned with pleasure as Jack’s tongue swirled around his tip, diving into the lining of his foreskin to gather what curds of smegma were present. Jack’s nausea at this had vanished long ago, he was merely going through the motions before enacting his plan.
As he throated Randy’s dick over and over again, the man who had trapped Jack for so long began to thrust upward into his mouth, lightly scratching his face with the overgrown pubes that lined the base of his cock. Jack wiggled his tongue in Randy’s urethra, just how he liked it. Anything to get this over with quicker.
“Ungh, fuck...don’t stop Jack, you dirty little whore...I’m so close,” Randy moaned.
Jack sucked harder and harder, faster and faster, all while his hand slowly inched toward the makeshift blade in his pants behind him. With the weapon in hand, Jack gave it everything he had.
“MMMPH FUCK YES, CMON BABY GIVE IT TO ME! OH JACK, OH, OH FUCK, I’M G-GONNA CUMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM!!!!” screamed Randy, closing his eyes tightly.
He threw his head back and Jack took his chance. With one fell swoop of the glass shard, he sliced Randy’s dick clean off, spitting the half of it still in his mouth out. Jack lunged at the injured Randy, glass still in hand.
“AAARRGGHHHHHH, FUCK! HAAH...FUCK!” Randy cried, semen oozing out of his bloody stump of a penis. He opened his eyes just as Jack thrust the blade straight into his right one, then his left. Left weak from the orgasm, Randy could hardly fight back.
(To be continued in comments)
If the US ate chicken, it would die.
Why is six afraid of seven? Because seven ate nine.
Why is ten afraid? Because he’s in between nine and eleven.
Why was 6 afraid of 7? Because seven ate nine.
But 10 was afraid, why? Because it was in between 9 and 11.
Why was 6 afraid of 7? Because 7 ate 9.
But then why was 10 scared? Because it was in between 9 and 11.
When I was doing ju jitsu at my neighbor's cat, I accidentally created a whirlpool and then ate a mango mustard bar.
Yo mama so fat, she ate McDonald's!
What'd the farmer say when a coyote killed and ate his rooster?
"No, you ate my cock!"
John pretended to be a doctor.
Motu came to him. He said, "I lost my hunger."
John brought some samosas for his lunch. Motu ate them. John said, "Your hunger is back!"
Then, Motu said, "I lost my taste."
John said, "Number 1, bring some water." Motu drank it and said, "This is petrol!" John said, "Your taste is back!"
Motu said, "I lost my memory."
John said, "Number 1, bring some medicine." Motu said, "But Number 1 brought water." John said, "Your memory is back!"
A blind man went to a restaurant.
"Menu sir?" asked the owner. "I'm blind, just bring me one of your dirty forks, I will smell it and order." The confused owner went to the kitchen to retrieve a fork and returned to the blind man.
The blind man smelled the fork with a deep breath, "Yes I will have the lamb with seasoned potatoes and spring vegetables." Unbelievable, thought the owner. The blind man ate and left. Two weeks later the blind man returned. The owner, wanting to know how good his smell is, quickly went to the kitchen where his wife Brenda was cooking and said, "Do me a favor and rub this fork over your private part" which she did. He then goes to the blind man and gives him the fork. The blind man takes it and puts it to his nose and says, "Oh interesting! I never knew Brenda works here!"
I ate a clock yesterday. It was very time-consuming.
Why can't Chinese people play baseball?
Because they ate the bat.
I ate a sock yesterday. It was very time-consuming.
I ate a baby, it tasted like baby.
"When is the best time to commit suicide?"
Ate a Glock in the morning.
What number is better than 69?
88 'cause you get ate twice.
Did you hear about the cat that ate a lemon? Now it's a sourpuss.
Do you know why dinosaurs can't eat hyenas?
Because they're dead! The last thing they ate was some rock.
People should've recognized that Jared Fogle was a sick offender by one coded Subway sandwich; he normally claimed to kids he ate the sweet onion chicken teriyaki when it was the tuna sub.
Tuna sub was the message of the target to the kid since "tuna sub" put together makes "tunasub" and the truth comes when you spell it in reverse ("busanut")!